


she’s like the den mother of hell.

by harlxquinn



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Musical, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Bc juno is hashtag the worst in the musical, Beetlejuice Has Mood Ring Hair (Beetlejuice), F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, SO MANY liberties taken with greek mythology in this given the netherworld in this universe, Violence in certain chapters, and this idea wormed its way into my brain and won’t shut up, but i am a sucker for greek myth in any way i can include it, i have fallen so hard and fast for this show it’s kind of ridiculous, in literally anything i write, so here it is, there’s like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24694258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harlxquinn/pseuds/harlxquinn
Summary: “If Perse is here in the ass crack of nowhere Connecticut in the middle of winter, what does that tell you about what’s happening in the Netherworld right about now?”———A year after the events of the musical, a freak day of scorching sun in the middle of a Connecticut winter lands the queen of the Netherworld in the middle of the Deetz-Maitland household.And they thought letting Beetlejuice stay with them would put an end to the majority of their supernatural weirdness.
Relationships: Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	1. laying low, stayin’ out of sight.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no idea where this fic even sprouted from in the deep recesses of my brain, but I actually have an idea for pretty much the whole thing? I’ve kind of got myself ridiculously attached to this idea in a very short space of time so, hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: assault with mentions of strangulation.

If she’s being entirely honest with herself, it’s been a long time since she’s felt anything even close to this sort of fear.

Those memories are blurred by time; strong hands coaxing her into the darkness as she steps away from the world almost in a trance, followed by the initial weeks of fear and confusion of a world devoid of everything she was supposed to embody. She had grown to love her new kingdom in time but those first weeks had been terrifying to be cut off from everything her very presence stood for in the world of the living. The lack of any sort of life had almost felt like she’d woken up in the lush bedroom of the palace she would call home missing a limb. Yet for everything that had so unsettled her so deeply, she had never once felt threatened by anything within her new kingdom across the centuries she had been tied to it.

Being attacked in her office and coming back to consciousness with hands clasping around her throat to cut off her air had quickly robbed her of that feeling.

She scrabbles ineffectually against the bulk of her attacker, determined to at the very least go out fighting, but it’s a rapidly losing battle as her vision starts to swim into a blur. In all honesty, she has no idea if she even _can_ die like this but it’s not particularly a question she wants to find the answer to. 

As the faceless shade bears down even harder, a glint catches her attention in the periphery of her vision and her hand clasps the neck of a nearby bottle to slam it up and into the side of their head in an explosion of glass and near blinding light that forces her attacker back with inhuman shrieks, finally allowing her to gasp for air with a hacking cough. Rolling over as she shielded her eyes from the intense glare, her fingers clasp down on a piece of chalk from her overturned desk and then her flight instinct is kicked into overdrive at the chance to escape she’s been gifted.

She staggers out into the doorway and into the quiet bar, and races for the door, dimly aware of the sound of a harsh voice shrieking at someone to get after her as she barrels out into the streets of the Netherworld. Ancient words slip from her tongue as she runs, a secret taught to her by a friend long ago to cloak midsummer trysts with her husband, and as soon as she’s certain she’s lost her pursuers, she skids to a breathless halt in an alleyway to draw a shaky door on a wall and slam her hand against it three times.

The doorway to the world of the living is barely even open before she’s through and slamming it shut again behind her. It takes a moment to register her surroundings; she’s come out of the side of a somewhat crumbling mausoleum in the middle of a snowy graveyard bathed in moonlight, a strangely familiar sight. Where exactly in the world she’s emerged is a mystery but the pull of winter is already curling into her body, as she leans back against the wall and slides into a heap in the shadow of the crypt.

For now, she thinks as she feels her eyes slipping shut, she can take a moment to catch her breath. She’ll find somewhere to lie low in the morning.


	2. winter's nigh and summer's o'er.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A freak weather phenomenon sweeps through Winter River, as Lydia and Beetlejuice make a discovery on a trip to the local graveyard.

It takes a moment, when Beetlejuice suddenly finds himself awake in the early hours of the morning, for him to realise what had dragged him back to awareness.

The last time he can recall feeling something even a little bit similar to the distinctive thrum of the supernatural currently making the hair on his arms stand on end had been a year ago when his mother had emerged from the Netherworld intent on claiming Lydia, her fury practically rolling off her in waves. But this is something he barely recognises, especially after the last year spent mostly outside of the Netherworld, and nothing he can recall coming into contact with previously had been potent enough to wake him up like this.

Throwing back the covers and climbing out of bed, he yawned widely and raked a hand through his eternally messy hair as he phased through the door to head downstairs and raid the fridge. It had been an admittedly bizarre year in the wake of his first encounter with the Deetz family and the Maitlands. Despite his initial return to a Juno-less Netherworld, Beetlejuice had ended up returning to the living world because somewhere very deep down - not that he’d ever actually admit it - he’d missed the breathers and newly-deads too much. So it had been months of Lydia wearing away at her living and ghostly parents to allow him to move in and earning his way into the family’s good graces. Somewhere along the way, he’d even become Lydia’s big brother to explain his presence to anyone in Winter River who might ask, which had warmed his cold dead heart more than he’d care to admit.

Padding down the stairs, he wasn’t particularly surprised to find Adam and Barbara in the kitchen, working on preparing the beginnings of a breakfast for when the resident breathers woke up. 

“Woke you dorks up too, huh?” He asked, opening the fridge to rifle through it for the leftover Chinese food from the previous night. 

“That energy spike?” Barbara replied, “Yeah. It’s the strangest thing. Everything feels all...heavy, I guess. Like the air right before a storm.”

“It is _way_ too early in the morning to be gettin’ all poetic like that, Babs,” Beetlejuice grinned as he scooped a handful of fried rice into his mouth with his fingers.

“What was it anyway?” Adam asked, moving to drop a fork into the takeout carton in response to him eating with his hands.

“Hell if I know, A-Dog,” Beetlejuice shrugged as he continued with the food, albeit now with the fork, “Something supernatural’s all screwy. Couldn’t tell you why though. Sometimes it just happens.”

Eventually, he found his way into the living room to pass out on the couch for another few hours, only to be woken up by Lydia practically throwing herself on his back.

“Morning Beej!”

“You’re chipper this mornin’, Scarecrow,” he grinned, squirming around to get her in a headlock and give her an affectionate noogie, making her shriek with laughter and wriggle out of his grasp.

“It’s the first proper day of my holidays and it’s actually _nice_ out,” she replied, “We can head down to the graveyard and start on those photos I’ve been wanting to take.”

“Nice out? I thought it was snowing.”

“Geez, when you sleep, you really sleep, huh?” Lydia mused, gesturing to the living room window, “It’s been super sunny since I woke up.”

Sure enough, despite the snow, the sky seemed as blue and clear as the middle of summer, the sun beating down across the barren trees at the edge of the garden and the existing layer of snow.

“Huh,” he mused, tilting his head to one side like a dog, “Sure is. Well, might as well make the most of it, Lyds. Kick your holidays off in _style_.”

As the teenager clattered her way upstairs to change and gather her camera gear together, Beetlejuice found himself gravitating to the back porch, stepping out into the unseasonal weather. Maybe this strange weather had been what had woken him and the Maitlands earlier? Though the same strange supernatural itch seemed to continue as though telling him he was yet to find the source.

“Let’s go!”

Allowing Lydia to loop an arm into his and drag him out of the house as they shouted their goodbyes, they began the walk down to the graveyard. It was a strange combination of the summer sun and the slowly melting snow, and the continued pull of something beyond typical small town life that had been driving him insane all morning.

Once they reached the graveyard, he was quickly distracted by posing for Lydia, even though more often than not he never appeared in photos beyond the faintest blur. It still didn’t stop him from striking ridiculous poses against some of the gravestones or sneaking into frame on others and pulling stupid faces in an attempt to make Lydia laugh.

After a while, Lydia had moved over into an older area of the graveyard to photograph some of the more interesting statues, while he had perched cross legged on top of one of the tombs to keep an eye on things. As she stepped around one side of a mausoleum, she suddenly stopped in place before leaning back to call out to him, attention still focussed ahead of her.

“...hey Beej?” 

“Hmm?”

“There’s...someone here.”

The unease in her voice finally refocusses his attention, and he hopped down from his perch to jog over to her. Sure enough, as he stepped around the edge of the mausoleum, he saw the figure pressed up against the wall, almost unmoving. Almost as soon as his eyes fell on her, that same energy that had dragged him out of bed last night sparked something familiar in the recesses of his mind, and the sudden recognition of the woman hit him with the force of a rampaging sandworm. 

Juno had roped him into the annual meeting for Persephone’s return to the Netherworld once before his banishment, part of the welcoming committee for the queen. (He also hadn’t been allowed to attend again after the incident with the spiders). At that point of the year, her hair had been vibrant red and orange curls like autumn leaves, and her eyes a bright gold. He’d never seen her quite so deathly pale or with her hair this shade of icy blonde, though he supposed this was more to do with the seasons than the way his hair changed with his mood.

Now he actually understood what had caused the day’s freak summer sun.

Moving past Lydia to crouch down beside her, he carefully reached out to gently shake her shoulder, noticing the ring of scratches and bruises at her throat that had the distinct shape of clawed hands and letting out a string of curses. Who in their right mind had attacked her?

“Perse?”

When she didn’t respond, he couldn’t help but swear again. The longer he looked, the more injuries were apparent; more cuts and bruises, and what looked like a set of claws gashed deeply into the side of her hip to stain her dress and the hand she’d attempted to use to place pressure on it in golden ichor.

“Is she okay?”

Glancing behind him, Lydia had moved closer, clearly concerned at what was happening. Sighing through his nose, he looked between her and Persephone again before making a decision.

“She will be, if we get her back to the house.”

He bent down to carefully pick Persephone up bridal style, making sure he wasn’t about to hurt her any further.

“Sorry we’re cutting this short, Lyds.”

“The graveyard’s always gonna be here,” she replied, “This is more important.”

Clearly she’d managed to pick up on just how worried he was about this giant bombshell that had been dropped in their lap. God-slash-Satan only knew what colour his hair was right about now. 

“Grab on, kid,” he said, waiting for Lydia to link her arm in his before focussing and transporting all three of them back to the house. Making a beeline for the back door, he practically kicked the door open as he headed for the living room.

“You two are back soo-,” Adam said as he stepped out of the kitchen before he took in the unconscious woman Beetlejuice was carefully setting down on the sofa, “What on earth _happened_?!”

Stepping back from the sofa, the explanation Lydia was giving to Adam as Barbara and Delia made their way down the stairs at the sound of raised voices almost seemed to be drowned out by his own racing thoughts as he sank his hands into his hair trying not to panic. How the hell was he supposed to explain a badly injured Persephone if anyone had followed her here? He’d been in enough trouble in the Netherworld before that he was certain they’d jump to the wrong conclusion that he had been responsible and find some heinous punishment to fit the crime of attacking the queen. And what would her _husband_ do about this whole mess?

Fighting back a distinct sense of nausea at the prospect, he was brought back to the present as Barbara gently eased his arms back down, taking his hands in hers to give him something to focus on so he could try and calm down.

“It’s alright Beetlejuice,” she reassured him, giving his hands a soft squeeze, “We just need to know what happened. Who is she?”

Swallowing thickly as he glanced back to the sofa where Adam and Delia were already fussing around to figure out how to dress the wound in her side

“Persephone,” he managed to croak out, “Queen of the Netherworld. And she is _so_ not supposed to be here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i’ve had the idea in my head for ages that Persephone’s appearance tends to change throughout the seasons (a little bit similar to Eladrin in Dungeons and Dragons), and given Beej’s own mood ring hair, it definitely seems to fit. Basically: 
> 
> • Spring - Pastel pink hair, green eyes.  
> • Summer - Sea green hair, dark blue eyes  
> • Autumn - Red/orange hair (like autumn leaves, as described above), gold eyes  
> • Winter - ice blonde hair, ice blue eyes


	3. the smell of the flowers she held in her hand.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Deetz-Maitland household meets a goddess.

The moment Persephone’s name had left Beetlejuice’s lips, the panicked energy of the rest of the family seemed to collectively pause as they all stared at him in various degrees of confusion and shock.

“Persephone?” Delia asked quietly, wide eyes flicking back to the woman on the sofa, “You mean - ?”

“Goddess of spring, wife of Hades, big fan of pomegranates?” Beej replied, letting out a nervous burst of laughter, “One and the same. I’m sure you know her story. You breathers are _weirdly_ into the whole thing. Have been for centuries. I only ever met her the once cause Mother Dearest forced me into it but what I _do_ know is that she’s really not meant to be here cause it’s the middle of winter and her husband’s gonna _lose his shit_ if he finds out about this and - “

“Beej, you might want to breathe,” Barbara gently reassured him, running her thumb over the back of his hand where she was still holding it, “It’ll be okay.”

Stopping mid ramble, he took a deep breath before slowly letting it out, trying to calm his racing thoughts and only mildly succeeding. 

“It’s not really just the fact she’s _here_ that’s the problem, Babs,” he said quietly, “If Perse is here in the ass crack of nowhere Connecticut in the middle of winter, what does that tell you about what’s happening in the Netherworld right about now? Nobody, and I mean _nobody_ , with half a brain cell would ever attack her, and she looks like she’s gone ten rounds with Big Sandy.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Adam nodded, taking the first aid kit from Lydia as she returned with it from the kitchen, “First we’ll make sure she’s okay and go from there when she wakes up.”

As Adam gently pressed a cloth soaked in antiseptic to the gashes on her side, Persephone suddenly tensed and whimpered, her ichor stained hand shooting out to one side as the small plant on the nearby side table suddenly lurched sideways out of its pot to coil around her wrist. Almost in response to the plant’s touch, her eyes flew open as she recoiled away from the spirits and humans gathered around the sofa in a panic, pressing herself as far into the back cushions as she could reasonably get.

“Where - “ her voice was distinctly hoarse from the bruising, and she had to pause for a moment to wince, “Where the hell am I?”

For a moment, the gathered members of the Deetz-Maitland household could only stare in surprise before Beetlejuice cleared his throat, taking a step closer with his hands up to try and calm her down, despite the worried yellow colour of his hair.

“Um, Your Highness?” 

Her eyes flicked over to him and for a moment he wanted to shrink back under the intensity of her icy blue gaze.

“Don’t think you’re gonna remember me but we met in the Netherworld a few centuries back. Me and Lydia here,” he explained, gesturing to the teenager who gave a small wave and smile in response, “Found you down in the local graveyard all beat to hell. Brought you back here to try and patch you up and in case whatever tried to mess with you was still hanging around.”

Persephone sat in silence for a few moments, studying Beetlejuice intently as she took in his words before she cocked her head to one side, a slight smirk flitting across her lips.

“Beetlejuice, right? About six centuries back in the Welcoming Committee with all those spiders?”

“You _do_ remember!” He couldn’t help a large toothy grin at that, neon green bleeding back into the yellow of his hair as he began to relax.

“Honestly it was the most exciting welcome home I’d had in a long time,” she smiled before turning her attention back to the others, “Sorry, guess I should introduce myself. I’m Persephone.”

“Beej mentioned,” Delia smiled, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty. I’m Delia Deetz, and this is my step daughter Lydia. And this is Adam and Barbara Maitland.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Persephone nodded at the introductions, “Though please just call me Persephone. No need to stand on ceremony when I’m bleeding all over your couch.”

“Oh!” Barbara exclaimed as though just remembering her injuries after the dramatic nature of Persephone‘s return to consciousness, “Delia and I can help you upstairs so you can get cleaned up and changed if you’d like.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, that’d be fantastic.”

“Of course,” Delia nodded, “Lydia, can you go find some clean clothes from the laundry please?”

“On it,” the teenager replied, darting off as the other women helped Persephone to her feet. For the most part, she was able to keep her balance, but the nature of her wound meant she was pretty heavily limping as they began heading for the stairs, hissing sharply in pain at the movement. Before she moved too far away from the side table, she reached over and allowed the small plant to uncoil from her wrist and reroot itself into the soil as though it had never moved.

“ _Wow_ ,” Barbara breathed, a little wide eyed at the casual display of power.

“You think that’s cool, you should see what I can do in the spring,” Persephone smiled.

As the three women disappeared upstairs, closely followed by Lydia and an armful of clothes, Beetlejuice couldn’t help but sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. This had been the absolute last thing he’d ever expected to land on their doorstep and it very much felt as though having the queen of the Netherworld around was about to spiral out of control at any given moment.

“I’ve gotta…go make a call,” he muttered to Adam, stalking off towards the downstairs bathroom and quickly shutting himself inside. Biting down on the tip of his finger so he could draw his own dark brackish blood forth, he quickly began drawing various symbols across the mirror and quickly framing them in another ring of blood, the symbols twisted and disappeared within the frame until the picture changed to the familiar green face of Miss Argentina.

“What do you want, Beetlejuice? I’m rather busy right now.”

“Can’t a guy just check in with his favourite lady to see how she’s doing?” He grinned, though it didn’t seem to have the desired effect.

“Other guys, _maybe_ , chica,” she replied, “ _You_ usually want something.”

“You _wound_ me, Maria,” he faux gasped, pressing a hand to his chest as though hurt, “But this is important. I need you to get someone to go poke around The Descent for me.”

She was silent for a beat, eyeing him with some suspicion.

“And why exactly do you want me looking into the Queen’s bar?”

“Because I just found her up here in the land of the living looking like someone tried to kill her.”

“You _what_?!” she exclaimed, before realising just how loud her outust had been and leaning closer to her own mirror, “Beej if you’re fucking with me - “

“Even I wouldn’t be fucking with you about this of all things Maria,” he replied, “She’s here and she’s safe, but I need to find out who or what the hell thought it’d be smart to rough her up like they did. The Descent seems like the best place to start.”

“I’ll see what I can do and let you know,” Maria nodded, “You better keep her safe in the meantime. I can’t imagine anything that tried to kill the queen isn’t watching for her return to the Netherworld to try again if she managed to escape.”

“Trust me, she’s not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sheer number of times I’ve watched bootlegs over the last few days, I feel like I should be more confident with Beej’s character voice :/


	4. she never stays for long.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persephone settles in as the family’s latest supernatural guest.

“Hopefully these should fit you,” Delia said as she took the clothes from Lyda out on the landing while Barbara helped Persephone into the bathroom to sit on the edge of the bath, “I might be a little taller though so the pants might be a bit long.”

“Anything that’s not this,” Persephone replied as she gestured to her ruined dress and leggings, “Will do just fine.”

Twisting to one side, she pulled the dress carefully up to one side, pulling a face as she got a good look at how deep the cuts were for the first time. Barbara crouched on the floor next to her with the first aid kit, making a small tutting noise.

“We can definitely clean these up, but in all honesty, I think they might need stitching. Whatever did this cut pretty deep.”

“I think I might be able to stop the worst of it. This is gonna sound really weird, but do you have a plant you don’t really care about by any chance?”

“I might have just the thing,” Delia smiled, disappearing down the hall to the master bedroom before returning with a somewhat wilted looking spider plant, handing the pot over to Persephone.

“Usually this is my mother’s speciality but since it’s winter, I might be able to just…”

Holding a hand over the plant, a soft golden light formed in Persephone’s palm and the plant seemed to wilt as though rapidly dying. As she focussed on the plant, the cuts on her side seemed to close up enough to the point where the slow ooze of ichor stopped, before she pulled back, offering the plant back to Delia.

“I think I can fix that up once I’ve rested, but thank you.”

“Charles should be home soon, I’ll go downstairs to let him know we’re going to have a guest,” Delia smiled before disappearing back down the hall, Lydia moving to close the bathroom door and sit on the floor as Barbara began gently cleaning the wounds.

“It’s certainly an interesting household you’ve got here,” Persephone said, giving Barbara a slight smile, “Two ghosts, a demon and…three humans?”

“Yeah, Charles is Delia’s husband.”

“And my dad,” Lydia piped up, “You’re not like...mad about it, are you?”

“About what?” 

“The Maitlands and Beej being here.”

“The Handbook did say we were supposed to go straight to the Netherworld when we died,” Barbara offered.

“Oh that thing?” Persephone asked, “I wouldn’t take it as total gospel. I’m not sure that particular part has been properly updated since... _yeesh,_ I wanna say about 1840? Back when the spiritualism movement was getting big. A lot of newly-deads took to following around mediums telling them all sorts of stuff they _really_ shouldn’t have been and we had to try and nip it in the bud. The paperwork for it all was a nightmare.”

“So you’re not gonna take them to the Netherworld yourself or anything? Beej was really freaked at the idea of your husband finding out you were here.”

A flicker of an emotion Lydia couldn’t quite place flashed across Persephone’s face before it was gone just as quickly as she flinched in response to Barbara applying a bandage.

“Hades likes rules and order, but I promise you, nobody’s forcing anyone to go to the Netherworld right this second. It’s always going to be there for when people are _ready_ to move on, be it as soon as they pass over, once they’re done with any unfinished business on this plane, or any length of time in between.”

Seemingly satisfied with her explanation, Lydia nodded and shot Persephone a smile as Barbara gathered up the first aid kit. 

“We’ll leave you to get cleaned up. There’s toiletries and things in the cabinet you can use, and Delia’s probably started on dinner when you’re ready to come down.”

As she was left alone in the bathroom, Persephone waited for the sounds of Lydia’s footsteps to disappear down the hall before stepping over to lock the door, turning back to the mirror once she was sure she would be alone. She looked a mess, hair tousled in all directions and the dark circles around her eyes only seemed to be heightened by her paler winter complexion. 

Examining the bruises around her throat, she let out a small sigh before pulling on the silver chain around her neck that had miraculously survived the attack until she was holding the chunk of aquamarine crystal at the end of it. Closing her eyes and focussing on it for a moment, she allowed the magic she’d ingrained in it centuries ago to reach out for its intended target, before pulling her mind back to the present, turning her attention to the prospect of a nice warm shower.

The clothes, as predicted, were a little large, but Persephone was more glad to be out of her own battered and bloody clothes than worrying about the size. The shower had been exactly what she’d needed to relax, the warmth easing much of the tension from her muscles. Pulling her damp hair into a loose braid over one shoulder, she picked up her ruined clothes and folded them up. She could probably fix them once she’d had a chance to rest, but that would have to wait for now.

Heading towards the stairs, Persephone could hear various voices talking as she reached the landing. Limping her way downstairs, she found the family setting the table for dinner, Lydia helping the Maitlands set the table as Delia plated up pasta, talking to a man she could only assume was Charles. Beetlejuice was floating in cross-legged over the coffee table with a pint of ice cream, making her pause for a moment at the odd sight outside of domesticity of the rest of the scene before he noticed her watching and shot her a distinctly chocolatey grin, making her let out a small snort of laughter.

“Ah, this must be our guest,” Charles smiled as she reached the bottom of the stairs, stepping over to shake her hand, “It’s a pleasure, Miss-“

“Just Persephone is fine,” she replied, “And same to you, Mister Deetz. I’m very grateful for you all helping me like this, though I can find somewhere else to lay low tomorrow.”

“Probably shouldn’t, Seph,” Beetlejuice piped up, gesturing with his spoon as he spoke, “Anything that tried murdering you of all people will be keeping a keen eye out for any sign of you, ‘specially if you try and head back down below. You’ve practically got a giant neon target on your back.”

If anyone had been paying close enough attention, they would likely have noticed the way Persephone seemed to bristle at the nickname, though it was quickly brushed off.

“I wouldn’t want to impose-“

“Oh no, you’re _really_ not,” Delia exclaimed, “It’ll be a bit of a squeeze since we haven’t quite finished the other guest room yet but we can set you up down in the den.”

“She can have my room.”

Almost entirely in sync, the Deetz and Maitlands whipped around to stare in amazement at Beetlejuice as he scooped up another mouthful of ice cream.

“...what? C’mon it’s not _that_ weird. You’re the one wanting to set the queen of the Netherworld up on the _couch_ , Darla.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your bedroom, Beetlejuice,” Persephone sighed, “The couch is fine.”

“Nope, choice has been made, Your Highness,” he replied, grinning at her as he clicked his fingers, “My stuff’s already down there. You get the bedroom.”

Opening her mouth to protest again, Persephone narrowed her eyes at Beetlejuice’s smirk, deciding against escalating this whole thing into some petty argument that was likely to still end up with her taking the bed.

“ _Fine_. It’s appreciated. And thank you all again for your hospitality. If it makes you feel any better, I did cloak my exit from the Netherworld so it should be next to impossible for anyone to find out I’m here. I don’t want to bring any of this to your doorstep when you’ve all been so kind.”

“You can do that?” Adam asked, “Cloak, I mean. So people don’t know where you come out of the Netherworld?”

“It’s an old trick a friend taught me a long time ago,” Persephone grinned, “Technically it works both ways but sometimes a girl’s gotta break a few rules to sneak off in the middle of summer to visit her husband.

* * *

By the time the meal was over, Persephone was admittedly exhausted, the chaos of the day catching up with her all at once. Barbara had left the table a little early since she and her husband weren’t eating to make up the bed since Beetlejuice had transported all of his bedding down into the basement, and by the time she had made her way upstairs, she was ready to sleep, even if it was relatively early in comparison to the rest of the household.

Shrugging out of the sweatshirt she’d pulled on after the shower, Persephone moved to fold it and set it on the dresser, before noticing out of the corner of her eye that one of the pillows seemed to be on the floor rather than the freshly made bed. Bending down to pick it up, she threw it onto the bed without paying it much mind as she sat down to pull off her boots and climb into bed. Adjusting the pillows so she could lie comfortably on her uninjured side, she was so tired that she barely even noticed the familiar scent of earth on the pillow she’d picked up from the floor before she was finally drifting off into a proper sleep.


	5. the one who sings in the dead of night.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late night talks between a goddess and a demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made some minor edits and reuploaded this chapter.

It’s... _e_ _arly_ when Beetlejuice wakes up to the sound of movement in the house above him. Down in the den, he had no real idea just what time it was, but given the fact he could actually hear someone upstairs, he could only guess that Sexy One and Two weren’t up and about already. Which only left one option given the resident breathers _definitely_ weren’t awake at this hour.

Sure enough, as he floated up the stairs and carefully nudged open the basement door, he could hear the low sounds of Persephone talking from the kitchen. Moving over to the partially open door, he quietly peered around the edge to where she was sitting near the open window on one of the stools from the breakfast bar. Somewhere in one of the cupboards, she’d found some of the seeds Delia insisted on putting on her various salads and sitting in her palm was a small grey sparrow, chirping away as it pecked at the seeds while on her shoulder was a large black crow. It was only now that he realised that although he had heard her voice, she wasn’t actually _talking_. Instead, she was alternating between chirps at the sparrow and low caws at the crow in a display that was frankly fascinating to watch. 

Grinning to himself, Beetlejuice focussed out to summon a sizable cockroach right on the back of her hand where the sparrow was sitting, watching in anticipation as it crawled around her arm. Yet rather than shrieking in surprise and spooking the birds, she instead used her other hand to scoop it up gently away from the sparrow, making his jaw drop at her lack of significant reaction.

“Now where did you come from?”

“Well, this is downright tooth-rottingly Disney of you, Perse,” Beetlejuice announced, pushing open the door and flopping into his own chair, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

“I’m not just the queen of the Netherworld, y’know,” she smiled, leaning over to set the cockroach outside with one hand and setting the sparrow and seeds on the exterior windowsill, the crow taking the chance to fly out into the night before she closed the window, “I’m no Artemis, but animals tend to notice when I’m above ground. They get pretty chatty.”

“I’m sure they’ve got some great conversation.”

“You’d be surprised,” she shot back, “I didn’t wake you up or anything did I?”

“Nah. I’m surprised you’re up though. Y’ looked about ready to pass out again.”

“I more or less did. Just...had weird dreams about what happened.”

“What exactly _did_ happen?” He asked after a moment, summoning a couple of cups of coffee and sliding one across the counter to her, “Seems like it’d be suicide for _anyone_ to try and go after you the way they did.”

“Honestly, I don’t remember a lot before I woke up with hands around my neck. Whatever the fuck it was, I had to smash a bottle of sunlight over its head to get free. It was almost...familiar though? Like I’ve encountered something like it before a long time ago, but I can’t place it.”

“Called your Old Man to let him know you’re okay? I figure he’s probably started tearing up half the Netherworld already.”

“You know, I never understood where people get the idea from that Hades is so scary all of the time.”

“You’re kidding right? Half the stories I’ve heard, he sounds like some mafia don.”

“He prefers the term ‘crime lord’ these days,” Persephone replied, taking a sip of her coffee, “Sounds more noble.”

Beetlejuice couldn’t help spluttering on his own mouthful of coffee at Persephone's matter of fact tone, staring at her in astonishment for a moment.

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

“...yeah, I’m fucking with you,” she laughed, her more serious expression fading to amusement, “He’s practically an accountant and literally about the safest choice I could have made even if I hadn’t fallen for him, not that my mother cared. I love her, but she never did want to believe I could have chosen the Netherworld of my own volition. ‘Why couldn’t you have married the god of _doctors_ or the god of _lawyers_?’. If she’d had her way I would have been her ‘darling little Kore’ forever.”

It was fascinating watching the disgruntled expression that crossed her features as she idly waved a hand over the fruit bowl on the island, the contents inside ripening at her focus to the point where they looked almost freshly picked. Beetlejuice had heard various stories of just how Persephone had gained her position over the years but hearing it in her own words was interesting to say the least. He could certainly relate about her mother.

“Where’s your mom these days anyway? She wasn’t there when I came back in the fall.”

 _Ah,_ there was the million dollar question. Beetlejuice opened his mouth to reply before pausing, trying to decide the best way to describe the insanity of how he’d met the others before shrugging and deciding to just be honest

“I got her eaten by a sandworm cause she tried to kill Lydia after she and Chuck ran downstairs when I tricked her into almost exorcising Babs instead of bringing her dead mom back to life and tried to marry her to become alive. _Not_ in a pervy way, strictly business. Just a green card thing.”

He couldn’t help but grin a little watching the wheels turning in Persephone’s head as she tried to process what he’d just told her.

“But...you’re not alive now.”

“Oh, no. Whole thing was one big double cross in the end. Lydia pretended to agree to the wedding so she could kill me and get me banished back home once I was alive again. There was a musical number and everything, then she stabbed me in the back with Debbie's bad art. Look!”

He pulled up the bottom of the t-shirt he’d been sleeping in to expose the ugly red scar in the middle of his chest that marked the method of his murder, making Persephone let out a short noise of surprise.

“That is... _so much_ information to take in that I honestly don’t know where to start processing any of that?” she laughed, “It certainly explains where Juno’s gone though. And I think it practically makes you a hero to half of Customs and Processing since she doesn’t seem to be back yet.”

“Yeah, hopefully she stays gone for a good while longer,” he replied, downing the last of his coffee, “Doubt I’m gonna be welcome back home once she returns.”

“Looking out for me will earn you a couple of favours, you know,” Persephone said, offering him a small smile, “I can pull a few strings to keep her away.”

“Appreciate the thought, Perse, but I’m a grown ass demon. Mom’s my problem to deal with.”

“Fair enough. Offer’s still on the table though.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” he nodded, “I gave work a call while you were getting patched up earlier, by the way. I know a few people who’ll be able to poke around your place to find out what happened without raising alarm bells you’re up here with us. I’ll let you know what Maria finds out.”

“Good. Not gonna lie, I _really_ want to look whoever jumped me right in the face once we find out who did this,” she said, gesturing to her bruised throat.

“You, ma’am?” he couldn’t resist teasing, “But you’re such a little wallflower. I don’t know how scary you’d be.”

There was a distinctly dark edge to the smirk that crossed her features at those words that almost made him squirm where he sat as she leaned a little closer over the kitchen island.

“My name doesn’t mean ‘bringer of destruction’ for nothing, Beetlejuice. I bet even _you’d_ be surprised how scary I can really be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Perse is practically a D&D druid.  
> 2\. Spot the Percy Jackson reference!  
> 3\. These two are about as fun to write as I was expecting them to be and I’m super pumped to get to the rest of the stuff I want to with them in this fic.


	6. they’ll steal your breath.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little look into the “weird dreams” Persephone has been having since her attack.
> 
> TW: assault with mentions of strangulation.

There’s an unnerving familiarity to the chill that raises goosebumps across her arms, the dark void surrounding her impenetrably dark. Even when she holds her hand up to her face she’s almost touching the tip of her nose before she can see anything. She knows this moment, the first time she made the mistake of wandering too close to Tartarus on her own before Hades could teach her of its dangers. Yet this isn’t the edges of the pit where she had collapsed: this is somewhere deep in the depths of the Netherworld’s darkest prison.

Persephone can almost sense figures in the darkness around her, never entirely sure if she’s just imagining things or if the wardens of the pit were genuine creatures of the darkness. Every now and then, she feels someone brush past her, or fingers tugging at her hair before she freezes in place and the laughter starts, sourceless and unidentifiable. It’s a myriad of voices: loud and whispering, male and female, harsh and soft, and they swirl around her with words that come like a half remembered dream.

_ “Love is his weakness, it always has been. He’ll trip over himself like a lovesick fool to try and impress you, a simpering little girl who acts as though she understands how this world works.” _

The darkness seems to bleed away around her and she’s suddenly in a familiar field of brilliant wildflowers, sprawled on her back to bask in the sunlight. As she sits up, a few petals fall loose and spiral around her in the wind and there’s a distinct lump that forms in her throat as she recognises this place, this  _ moment _ . 

Sure enough, on the southern edge of the field, she watches as the flowers begin to blacken and wither as they had the day she had agreed to join Hades, but this time, the figure is not as tall and slim as her husband, and the shadows cling to the figure in a way that sets a shiver up her spine. 

_ “You’ve hardly been a queen of late, with that sleazy bar of yours. Really, we’re doing you a favour. You’d make a far better follower than a leader. We’ll get a proper queen this time.” _

The shadow figure suddenly surges forward as she scrambles backwards in the dirt, unable to get to her feet before she’s pinned to the ground, the other flowers around her dying and crumbling away to become her office in The Descent as it had been the night of her attack. The creature above her is a roiling cloud of shadow save for rows of needle like teeth that leer down at her as the pressure on her throat grows harder. Even attempting to grasp for the bottle that had been her escape route before, her fingers only scrabble fruitlessly against the carpet as the world begins to turn black around the edges.

_ “We’ll be seeing you again soon, little Kore.” _

With the echo of a sickening sort of crunch echoing in her ears, Persephone found herself suddenly awake. It takes her a moment, sprawled on her stomach as she is, to remember she’s not in the palace, instead in the guest bedroom of the Deetz’ in the land of the living. Somewhere in the throes of her nightmare, she’d managed to kick the covers half off the bed, the rest tangled around her leg, and she’d pulled one of the pillows into a white knuckled grip against her chest. 

The words in her dream still ring in her mind as she disentangles herself from her covers to rearrange them, but right now, she was so exhausted she could barely even focus as she crawled back into bed. The words were familiar, but it had been so long since her first encounter with the energies of Tartarus that she truthfully couldn’t say for certain. 

Curling up around the pillow she’d been clinging onto, she suddenly realised just why she’d been so desperate to hold onto it, a familiar scent of grave dirt and moss drifting across her senses making her smile fondly to herself. Maybe this time the comforting scent of her gardens in the Netherworld would help her sleep more peacefully this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s a bit of a short one this time, but this felt a bit weird to be attaching to the next chapter.


	7. way down hadestown.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Maitlands get a little more insight into the true workings of the Netherworld and Persephone makes a call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made some minor edits and reuploaded.

It takes a few days before Persephone can comfortably get around without having to stop to wait for the pain in her hip to subside, and once she’s really up and about, she’s determined to help out around the house as much as she can. Mostly, it had involved helping to perk up the various houseplants and the herbs Barbara had started growing in the kitchen, along with helping cook. Watching the expression on Beetlejuice’s face when he’d wandered through the kitchen on his way out to a Guide job to find her laughing with Adam and Barbara, using her powers to freshen up the fruit Barbara was using for a pie, had been priceless. 

“It never gets old seeing people amazed I can cook,” Persephone laughed at the teasing jab about enjoying their playdate Beetlejuice shot over his shoulder as he left.

“People really think that?” Barbara asked.

“Oh _god,_ yeah. You should have seen my first official winter in the Netherworld. The palace staff were all _super_ confused when I decided I wanted to cook for myself,” Persephone replied, smiling slightly at the memory, “They were all concerned it wasn’t ‘proper’ for the queen to be in the kitchens. Not that we strictly _need_ to eat, but my mom would’ve had my hide if I didn’t know how.”

“About the Netherworld,” Adam asked, “I’ve got some questions, if you don’t mind answering them.”

“Of course not. What do you want to know?”

“Well, it’s mostly because the way you and Beetlejuice talk about it sounds so different to how Charles and Lydia described it.”

“When did they -?” she began, before realisation struck, “ _Oh,_ Beetlejuice mentioned they’d paid the Netherworld a visit.”

“He _did_?” Barbara asked, clearly surprised.

“In what I’m assuming is a highly edited cliff-notes version of how you all met, sure,” Persephone nodded, “But yeah, it would be pretty different. What Charles and Lydia ran into was basically a security system for the living. It’s meant to either spit them back out into the waiting room so we can send them back, or they can open a door home in there.”

“Why would you need that in the Netherworld?” Adam asked.

“Charles and Lydia trying to cross the threshold is exactly why,” Persephone shrugged, “We used to get _so many_ mortals in the Netherworld on valiant quests or with less than savoury motives. Theseus and his idiot friend who wanted to marry me came down there to attempt a kidnapping. Needless to say my husband was _not_ happy - we kept Pirithous for trying that. Heracles came to borrow our damn _dog_ , and...well, I’m a sappy romantic who wanted Orpheus to succeed. Point is, mortals aren’t supposed to be down there until it’s their time, and the Netherworld was crawling with them every couple of months. We had to try and put a stop to it.”

“So Lydia never would have found her mother,” Barbara mused, a sad expression flitting across her features.

“‘fraid not,” Persephone agreed, “Even if she had got through into the Netherworld proper, it’s next to impossible to find someone if you’re running blind. Think of the biggest city you can and multiply it by a hundred, a thousand, and that’s our main city of Asphodel. Every person who’s ever died is down there. You can request reunions but you have to be dead first.”

“Well, that certainly sounds like... _a lot_ ,” Adam replied, clearly thinking over everything she’d told them.

“Oh, it’s definitely a bit of a culture shock at first, but it’s really not so bad once you’re used to it,” Persephone smiled, “And it’s beautiful, in its own way.”

“So there’s nothing like Heaven of Hell?”

“Well, we have Elysium and Tartarus, but you’re better off thinking of them like a gated community and a maximum security prison. You’ve either gotta be practically a saint or an absolute monster to get into either of those. Even the palace is just in Asphodel. Seemed almost hilariously elitist to cosy up in Elysium when we rule the whole Netherworld.”

“Sounds like you and Hades are a pretty good match if you think that too,” Barbara smiled.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Persephone replied, before standing up, “That reminds me. I should go try and send him another message to see how things are going.”

Heading upstairs to the bathroom after she’d excused herself, Persephone leant her forehead against the back of the door as she shut herself inside, locking it with a small sigh before turning back to the mirror. Pulling off her aquamarine necklace, she began murmuring under her breath and touched the crystal to the mirror, the image of her own reflection rippling like water to be replaced by a familiar image of an office off to one side of an underground dock. The large figure with his feet up on a wide weathered desk was a welcome sight, though he didn’t seem to have noticed the mirror on his end had changed from the book he was focussed on, leaning back in the chair. Clearing her throat, she bit back a giggle as the man started at the noise, whipping around to the source as the book fell to the floor.

“Lady Persephone!”

“It’s good to see you, Charon,” she smiled as he attempted to smooth his ever tangled beard and hair as he dropped into a bow, “How are things going?”

“As well as usual, your highness,” he replied, straightening up, “I had heard rumours you’d been forced to flee the Netherworld. I must admit I was concerned when the rumours found their way to me.”

“Everything’s fine, I promise. I’m safe with friends, and I’ll be back as soon as the threat of whoever attacked me is dealt with. Though I need you to do something for me, if you’re able to.”

“Anything, my queen,” he nodded.

“I need you to go to the palace and get Hades’ helm for me. I fear I might have to return home myself at some point and I’d rather remain under the radar as much as possible to do so.”

“...are you sure, your highness?” he asked, concern creeping into his voice, “Taking such a thing out of the Netherworld without - “

“He’s not exactly going to _miss it,_ is he?” she replied, tone growing harsher than she had intended. She paused for a moment, collecting herself against the tide of emotions fighting within her chest, “The attendants will be able to get it for you. If you get it to Maria in Customs, she knows who I’m staying with and will be able to get it to me. I’d prefer as few people as possible know where I am, at least for the time being.”

“As you say, my queen. It will be done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned into another bit of a lore dump, but I’m working on progressing things a bit more now I’ve got this out of the way properly.


End file.
